


Trust

by appleslovetea



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleslovetea/pseuds/appleslovetea
Summary: Trusting your partner means letting them fly on their own sometimes.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> I found this oneshot on my laptop. Weird thing is, I don't remember writing it o_O

Asami sensed more than saw the person lying next to him sit up in bed and slowly start moving towards the edge of the mattress.

“Where are you going?” He asked over his shoulder.

Akihito looked startled at the unexpected question.

“Huh, I-I’m thirsty. I’m going to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.” He answered a little too quickly. “Sorry if I woke you up. You can go back to sleep.” 

That’s precisely what the older man didn’t do though. Despite remaining in bed, Asami fixed his stare on the alarm clock positioned on top of the bedside table, and waited.

5 minutes went by, then 10, then 15. When the 20 minute mark came and went and there was still no sign of Akihito, he grunted.

_Yeah, gone to grab a glass of water… right._

Pulling the comforter away from him, Asami got out of bed and walked out of his bedroom, not bothering to dress his naked body.

He walked silently down the hallway; the carpeted floors muffling the sound of his barefoot steps.

When he saw light coming from the other side of the door that led to his home office, he shook his head.

He should have known...

Akihito was so engrossed in the task of rummaging through the drawers of the older man’s desk that he didn’t even notice when Asami leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the office room, arms crossed in front of his bare chest.

“The thing you’re looking for isn’t there, you know?"

Again, Akihito was startled by the sound of the other man’s voice.

This time around though, he didn’t bother coming up with an excuse for his unusual behavior. Quite the contrary, the photographer was fuming when his eyes met Asami’s from across the room.

“Where the hell is it then?”

The older man huffed, pulling a hand through his hair.

“I’m not having this discussion with you again, Akihito.”

“WHERE’S MY PASSPORT, DAMN IT?!”

The young man’s sudden outburst ended up surprising both men, even though it was only the photographer who showed it in his features; his face reddening profusely on account of his rage.

“…You can’t keep my passport hidden from me!” Akihito said a few moments later in a calmer manner. “You have no right to do that!”

Asami sighed tiredly.  “Fine! If you promise me you won’t go on that bloody job assignment, you can have your damn passport back.”

“Of course I won’t promise that. I _want_ the job!”

The seriousness with which the photographer made the remark cut through Asami’s soul like a knife.

It took everything in the business man's power not to lose his cool at that moment. “Then this conversation is over.” He said matter of factly. “As far as I’m concerned, you can forget your passport even exists.”

And with that Asami turned his back on the younger man and started walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

It wasn’t long before he heard Akihito’s angry steps close behind him.

“Fine! I’ll get a new passport then!” Akihito practically shouted at his back. “It will take longer, but I’m going on that job assignment, and you _can’t_ stop me!”

And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Before his mind could properly register what he was doing Asami was turning round, and grabbing hold of Akihito’s upper arms, he slammed the younger man’s back against the nearest wall with a little more force than he’d intended to.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” He asked, unable to mask his inner agitation any longer. “Are you even hearing yourself speaking? Do you really want to throw yourself in the middle of the bloodiest war going on right now in the world just for the sake of some stupid photos?”

“They’re not stupid!”

“Haven’t you been watching the news lately?!” Asami continued regardless; well aware he had never shouted this loud at the other man. “Two photographers covering that war were sent home in coffins this week. Do you want to follow in on their footsteps? Is that it?”

“I-I’ll be careful.”

The business man snickered as soon as he heard the younger man's words. “ _You_ , careful? Give me a break, Akihito. You have _no_ sense of danger. You never had!”

Asami could instantly tell that his words hurt the photographer, but right then he was too desperate to care. If injuring the photographer’s ego was the price to pay for keeping the latter out of trouble, so be it. The older man would just have to find a way later on to compensate the other for the injustice.

A moment of silence ensued then, and Asami, noticing the photographer's defeated stance, finally let go of the hold he had on the latter’s upper arms.

“You know,” Akihito eventually said. “I’m not a naïve 23 year-old anymore.  I can take care of myself now.” He added in a low voice, looking straight into his lover’s eyes. “I wish you could see that… Everyone else can.”

And with that he moved down the hallway, away from the older man.

* * *

Awhile later Asami found Akihito on the living room's balcony, leaning against its protective railing, and seemingly enjoying the nighttime view of downtown Tokyo.

He approached the younger man quietly, gently placing a robe over his shoulders.

“I’m fine. Don’t need it.” Was the terse reply he received as Akihito tried to pull the garment off.

“It’s not that warm, and you’re naked.” Asami admonished. “You do need it.”

He heard Akihito grumbling under his breath but chose to ignore it, instead moving to stand next to the younger man.

Again, silence fell between them; neither one of them seemingly willing to rekindle their earlier quarrel.

“Will you be reconsidering your decision to go?” Asami asked after a few moments, his calm tone successfully masking the anxiety he nevertheless was having trouble handling.

Akihito’s answer came in the form of a shake of the head.

Asami sighed quietly. “I wish you would.”

“And I wish you’d trust me, for once.”

The hint of accusation in the photographer’s voice did not go unnoticed.

“I do trust you, Akihito. It’s just…”

“ _What_?”

“I can’t protect you if you go… and I don’t like that.”

The sincerity behind Asami’s remark disarmed the photographer, who tenderly placed a hand on his lover’s shoulder.

“Ryu… I’m not-“

“You’re not a kid anymore, I know that.” The older man recognized with a sad smile. “But you _are_ brash, and you _do_ act like a reckless brat from time to time, and _that_ is not at all wise in a war zone.”

The criticism made the photographer pout; so much so, that the business man felt like laughing for a brief moment.

“Is it that important for you to go?” Asami asked after his smile slowly turned into a frown.

Akihito nodded silently in reply.

“…”

“It’ll just be for two weeks.” The photographer said reassuringly. “They’ll be over in no time, you’ll see.”

Asami snickered at the remark. He doubted that two weeks of constantly worrying about Akihito's safety would go by in a hurry.

Nevertheless he took a hand to the front pocket of the robe he had put on before setting out to search for Akihito, and took out a small chrysanthemum engraved booklet.

Akihito’s eyes widened in delight as he recognized his passport. He took it from Asami’s hand and hugged the other man’s torso in return.

“Just promise me that you’ll avoid any critically dangerous areas while you’re there.” Asami said, hugging his lover back.

Akihito’s answer reached the business man muffled by the fabric of his robe. “I promise.”

Asami sighed in reply, before bending down to place a kiss on the photographer’s forehead. “You will be the death of me, Takaba Akihito.”

 

 

**(2 weeks later)**

A half empty bottle of Scotch stood on the living room’s coffee table next to an array of national and international newspapers and magazines.

Asami placed his drinking glass down on the table before picking up the most recent NY Times edition, which front page featured a single picture depicting the immediate aftermath of a bomb explosion in downtown Q-.

The small print at the bottom right corner of the picture credited it to one Takaba Akihito, and the accompanying news article, written by renowned war journalist Liz Stephens, provided the newspaper's readers with every gruesome detail of the war raging on at the other side of the world.

An uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach made Asami re-direct his gaze to the multitude of print media he had been collecting for the past two weeks. The multitude of media outlets had in common the fact that they all featured various pictures taken by Akihito, each one more raw and honest than the next... and more dangerous too.

Asami took a hand to his face, massaging his stubble.

In all fairness he should stop calling his facial hair ‘stubble’. Two weeks without shaving left Asami with a full blown beard; one which had already garnered several curious side-glances from business associates and employees alike.

Asami didn’t mind though. In truth he thought the bearded look suited him. At least it went well with the dark circles that had been marring the skin around his eyes for days now.

All that was about to change though. Finally!

As if on cue, Asami heard the front door of the apartment opening and closing, followed by the sound of a voice which to him acted like an instant restorative balm.

“I’m home!” Someone said cheerfully. “Asami?!... Oi Asami, where are you?”

“Living room.”

Five seconds later Akihito turned the corner into the penthouse’s largest room, his lips broadening into a huge smile the moment his gaze fell upon Asami sitting on the sofa.

The young man appeared to had lost a pound or two in the past two weeks, but otherwise looked rested and unscathed.

“You look well.” Was Asami’s remark.

“You, on the other hand, look like shit.” Akihito retorted with a raised eyebrow. “What happened to you?”

“Come here.”

Happy to oblige, the photographer walked towards his lover, kneeling in front of the sofa.

“Asami, I-“

Asami didn’t give Akihito a chance to start the sentence properly though, swiftly slamming his lips against the younger man’s in an overpowering kiss that had the latter moaning into his mouth in a matter of seconds.

He had to break it soon on account of Akihito’s chuckle attack though.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m digging the new look, but that beard sure tickles as hell.” The younger man confessed, rubbing his nose with the palm of his hand.

Asami nevertheless chose to ignore the comment.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me every day at 9 pm?”

Akihito pushed himself up onto the sofa, all but straddling Asami’s waist as he sat on the older man's lap.

“Well, unfortunately, 9 pm for you meant it was 4 am for me. I was sleeping at that time.” The photographer explained, whilst leaving a trail of fiery kisses across Asami’s neck.

“Oh, I see. My apologies then.” The older man replied sarcastically. “By the way, is this your idea of avoiding critically dangerous areas?” He asked, lifting the cover of the NY Times he had just been reading.

Akihito gulped as he recognized the photo he’d taken just a couple of days before.

“Trouble has a way of finding me, I guess." He smiled nervously, while his hand went up to massage the back of his neck.

As he did so, Asami noticed for the first time the small bandage wrapped around the photographer’s wrist.

“What’s that bandage for?” He asked with a frown.

Akihito turned slightly pale at the question.

“O-Oh, this? I-It’s nothing. I tripped on a flight of stairs while getting out of the airplane and sprained my wrist. It’s really nothing to worry about.”

By then Asami had already grabbed hold of Akihito’s wrist and was examining the bandage intently though.

“Is this blood?!” The business man asked, noticing a faint red stain on the gauze.

“Ouch! Don’t squeeze it. I said it’s nothing!”

“So you’re bleeding from a sprained wrist?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Do you think I was born yesterday, Akihito?! What the hell happened?”

“It was a grenade shard, ok? A small one. A really, _reaaaally_ small one. It got lodge in my wrist when the grenade exploded. But hey, the doctor who took it out said I’ll probably won’t even be left with a scar. That’s how small it was… Hey! Wait! W-Where are you taking me all of a sudden?”

“To the panic room.” Asami announced, while carrying Akihito out of the living room in his arms.

“What? _Why_?”

“Because you’re clearly in need of a lesson on self-preservation, you brat!”

“And how are you planning to teach me such a thing in the panic room?!”

“Oh, I’m sure I'll think of something."

"Hey, Asami.”

“What?”

“I missed you too.” Akihito whispered into his lover's ear.

And their laugther echoed throughout the penthouse.


End file.
